


Best Man Vest

by Bells_Hunt



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Destiel - Freeform, First Time, Gag, M/M, Public Sex, Rough Sex, bareback
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-20
Updated: 2014-04-20
Packaged: 2018-01-20 02:50:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1493878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bells_Hunt/pseuds/Bells_Hunt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based off this post "i just want a fic where sam and jess are getting married and while picking out tuxedos with sammy, dean meets cas who is a tailor at the suit shop and they fall madly in love and maybe fuck in one of the dressing rooms okay" from casfucker tumblr user</p>
            </blockquote>





	Best Man Vest

 

" _So,_ what do you think?"

"It's... Nice."

"Dean."

Sam sighed as he stared at his reflection once more, frowning. He never had much trouble picking clothes, or thought too much about it, but this was different. He really really wanted this one thing to go  _right._ He had gotten the job, his brother back, and now the girl. This was it. He had to look right. Not just nice.

Dean squinted his eyes before getting up and walking to him.

"Look, I don't know. Aren't you supposed to use one of those large weird ties or something? And isn't it supposed to not be black? And I'm pretty sure there's some shit about me matching you. Or is it matching Bobby? And how come he escapes this whole deal anyways?"

Sam didn't look happy in the least, he looked frustrated and for once Dean didn't want to pick on him, which obviously left him with not much to do. He crossed his arms and pursed his lips at their both reflections on the mirror of the tailor store. Why couldn't Sam just go to one of those rent suits things, anyway? Sure, he liked looking nice and getting eyes on him, but those things were worth more than the wedding cake, and what could be better than the cake?

"I don't know." Sam admitted frustrated. "Dad was supposed to teach me that." 

Dean's expression undid from the jest and he got closer, as if to inspect better.

"It doesn't look  _that_ bad. Maybe just try and find one of those thing-ties I said?" he asked, ducking his head around for some glance of what he was talking about. 

"It appears to me you speak of a cravat." 

Both brothers turned, surprised as a man walked to them. He was almost as tall as Dean, and with eyes as blue as his tie. He was in a simple black suit, but even Dean had to admit it dressed him pretty well. Dean's eyebrows pressed, a bit skeptical.

"And what's that crava-thing?"

He moved a little uncomfortable when the man put him under his whole attention. He had never met someone that stared like that, so bluntly and in the eyes.

"It can be a lot of things. It depends on whom is speaking of it. Generally, a larger tie." he glanced back to Sam and Dean was glad, also because it gave  _him_ the chance to stare and snoop. "It's not mandatory, but your brother speaks right, you should search for a light tone, maybe white. Unless there's an specific color theme." he shook his head as he approached Sam and with a blunt gesture unwrapped a measuring tape and started to move it along his brother's arms. 

Dean was surprised with how just assure and precise his gestures were, his facial expression barely changing as he took in the measurements and didn't seem in need to take notes about it. 

"Weddings these days. You never know what's been created from one sunrise to the other." 

"Ah... Thanks." Sam blinked awkwardly as his chin was risen in a sudden push and the man measured his collar and then the extension of his shoulder blades. 

"This is not the suit you're looking for." the man decided after a few measure takes, between which Sam and Dean traded questioning looks, the latter merely quirking his lips down and shrugging at his brother's confused look. "Here" he said as he came back from shuffling with the hangers and pushed a new suit into Sam's chest. "Change." he said shortly, nodding towards the dressing rooms.

"You seem like you know what you're doing." Dean commented loud after a second of weird silence.

"Of course I do. I'm a tailor." the man gazed at him in that piercing way again. "I think you know more than you let on." 

Dean scoffed, with a dismissive gesture.

"Pal, the only thing  _I_ know about weddings?" he smirked "How to give a rocking bachelor party. And that's what I'm going to show tonight." 

To his surprise the man looked amused, the hint of a smile on his lips that Dean could not quite describe, and he kept on looking at him that way as he answered.

"You might think that, but I do not believe that is the case. You picked the exactly right color and cut. I picked your brother's new attire cut after yours. It dresses you perfectly. And now his should as well."

Dean's jaw slacked and he tried to say something, his face contorting, he suddenly wondered if that guy was hitting on him.  _Was he?_

"Ah..."

"So, what about now?"

He snapped out of it as Sam emerged from the curtains, in a suit that was definitely the same gray tone of the one Dean had picked for himself, and as soon as he walked in, Dean had to admit the man was right. Sam didn't look awkward in that like he did in the nearly black one he had picked at first. His eyebrows rose and he nodded as he got up. 

"Not bad, baby bro." 

He commented as he walked closer, hands automatically reaching to fix his (now white) tie, enjoying the silky material and taking a step back for  a new look, nodding. The waist coast was just a slight bit darker than the suit and the shirt a bit more white than the cream tone of the tie. Sam offered him a hopeful smile eyebrows rose showing he felt a bit shy and awkward as he turned to the mirror again. 

"Really?"

From the mirror, Dean caught the eyes of the man, and he was staring at him with that same knowing look of before as if he knew that Dean had taught his brother about knotting ties, and had learned it himself after many trials in front of a mirror, or that he had always picked the clothes before Sam was big enough to do it himself, or that he had always dressed to - if casually - cause an impression, or that his cuffs were always neatly folded back, never scrambled, or that he liked using layers. Dean cleaned his throat then nodded.

"Sure. Hundred percent. That's the one. Jess' gonna go all over you."

Sam rolled eye but snorted.

"Fine. I'm taking this."

Castiel nodded, that damn unreadable blank expression on.

"Very well. Change and Alicia here" he gesture for a girl that was passing and approached, "Will see you through. I assume you're keeping this one as well?" he asked, turning to Dean. 

"Wha-?"

"Oh. Yeah! Yes. I'll. Change." he pointed towards the dressing rooms before stumbling as quick as possible into it, widening his eyes as he tried to get his brain to focus and understand why the hell was his blood rushing all of a sudden. 

For a moment, he thought the man would follow him in there and his stomach clenched at the thought. He didn't know what exactly he expected from it, or for what would the man do such a thing but it still reacted in him anyways. He was almost disappointed when he got completely changed and outside and the man was nowhere to be seen. He scolded himself and his goddamn curiosity for keeping him intrigued over the fact a man might have just hit on him. So what? He was an attractive guy. No big deal. Right?

Still as they got to the cashier, he couldn't care less or pay the minimal attention to what the Alicia-girl was saying, and she was a hot blonde, but he was too distracted to pass more than a hint at her, or really watch her response. Later as Sam paid, she passed him the bags and her hands lingered on his, finally grabbing his attention, and his eyes as he looked up at her, raising an eyebrow. She smiled, dirty, but she just applied more pressure and he realized she was trying to give him a note along with the bags.

"I was asked to hand you this."

He slowly tore his eyes from her green ones to look down and smirked.

"Not yours?"

She chuckled, then shrugged.

"If you don't like that one, come back around, and maybe we'll see."

He was still smiling pleasantly when she left. He looked down at the note, finally unfolding it, and his brows rose as he read it.

It was from the store guy.

Apparently his name was Castiel.  _Castiel? Really?_

It said "Good work. I sincerely expect your party planner expertise to be in the same level as your stylist one." Dean frowned. He was no freaking stylist, what the- As he turned around, the man was right there, in the back, staring back at him. His ears buzzed as he stared, frozen in place, and he almost jumped in place when Sam called him loudly.

" _Damnit Sam_!" He jolted, folding the small paper and shoving it in his pocket.

"What's about that?" Sam asked, looking half intrigued, half amused at Dean's scare. The other pursed his lips.

"Nothing, it's nothing. Here, take those to mom or whatever. You going back to work, right?"

"Yeah. Don't you wanna a ride?"

He asked surprised, and Dean blinked as he realized he had just not intended to leave the store. What on Earth was going on with him? Still he found himself answering,

"Nah, I could use a walk. Plus I have some stuff to deal with for tonight, I'll see you later,"

"About tonight, Dean, are you sure this is really-"

"No, no no no, you're not getting out of this one, little bro. I came to tea party here, didn't I? You're getting a goddamn nice bachelor party." Sam pursed his lips but Dean just dismissed him. "Don't worry, you'll love it."

As he watched Sam leaving, he thought of catching up, saying he changed his mind, leave. He should leave. Why would he stay behind anyway? He started to make his way to the exit. Maybe he should really do what he said he was going to instead, even if he could not catch a ride anymore. It wasn't like he didn't know the city. He jumped and turned on his heels as he realized he had just stopped halfway and caused a girl to crash on him. 

"Hey, hey, hey. I'm sorry, sorry lady." he tried to help her get her balance and she seemed a little out of breath, his eyes shifted from unfocused to interested but then he looked over her shoulders. The man wasn't only watching, he was laughing.

Okay. He was done. 

Dean let go of her and strolled his way back towards the man. 

"Were you hitting on me?"

He asked, bluntly, half expecting the other to deny already. The man still had a laugh air about him as he answered.

'I do not recall punching you."

Dean wasn't sure if the guy didn't get it or if he just really liked messing him around. His jaw tensed and he stepped closer.

"Were you..." he looked down and gestured evasively. "You know, were you trying to pass me a line?" as he forced his head up and the man's brows only rose a bit he huffed out and looked around troubled before he pushed the man through the curtains into the more private part of the store, that was still empty since they'd left. "Damnit. Were you trying to get me to fuck you?"

There was a silent second, Dean tensed and moved embarrassed as he heard an employee crossing the room and watched Castiel's eyes follow them, and then settle back on his own, that same uncomfortable way. Dean was still clutching to this suit.

"Yes."

Dean blinked.

And then again.

"What-?"

But he didn't have time to think as the next thing, the man was holding his face and pulling him in with that same quick precise move from before and then he was kissing him. Dean reacted before he thought, used to being kissed before being warned. He kissed back with the same want the man seemed to reserve for him. When his brain worked they were halfway through starting a French-kiss. 

He pushed the man back, eyes widen, not exactly mad, and the man looked out of breath, his lips already reddening from Dean's teeth and stubble, they stared at each other, and he seemed about to say something, but instead, Dean pushed him right back, and picked up from where they'd left.

From tongue to pushing him towards the dressing rooms, was less than a minute, strong boot steps easily driving the suited man inside the private box. He smashed on the mirror with a satisfying thump, and Dean groaned as he pushed their jaws open, forcefully deepening the kiss, while out of his attention, hands already worked over his plaid shirt buttons.

When he surfaced he didn't stop to think, he downed right to the guy's shaved neck, teeth digging and lips sucking, tongue darting, body pushing to press up and squeeze the man between him and the mirror. Castiel let out soft sounds as he tried to grasp to Dean's short hair, scratching his nape and inflated his chest looking for air, as he stared up, wide eyed and blank while his throat was marked down.

As he got to his collar bones, he finally pulled back, abrupt. Their gazes met and his was heavy while the man looked disconcerted for the first time since they'd met. 

"Is it working?" he mumbled after all.

Dean huffed, and rose his eyebrows.

"It just might be." he answered rough and a bit breathless. 

What was it? He didn't quite know. The man was good looking. He couldn't deny that. And goddamn if he didn't have quite an ass, from what it looked on those tight social pants. But that wasn't it. It was something in that way to look. Even now as he didn't look quite so composed, there was still something piercing about it. Dean had ever come close to doing this a couple of time only, but then he had been aided by beer and it never had felt quite this strong of a push. 

Hell with it.

He had never been one to step back from challenge, or from where his body (or dick) pointed. For some reason he wanted the guy, and said guy seemed more than willing to let him take it. With a smooth roll of shoulder he shrugged his shirt off, and then pulled it off his arms, his gaze still on those impossibly blue eyes. When he was shirtless, the man's gaze dropped and his soft gasp was audible enough. Dean watched as he took his forms in and reached to palm his chest. He almost groaned again. The touch felt warm and reminded him that sex was freaking good no matter how.

He cared little for the suit's or shirt's state as he pulled and stretched them open, the belt snapping as he lugged it from his pants, before zippering them down and shoving them along with the underwear to his knees. He stared at his work and the man looked back at him, panting and shuffled, suit and shirt open, showing off his built enough body, and against his stomach a straining erection. As Dean stared, he could feel his own groin hooking and pressuring and his jaw tensed just before he launched over again, pulling him in by the hips and grunting pleased as smashed their lips and bare torsos together. 

The man in his arms grasped to his shoulders urgently and moaned back as Dean's hips bumped into his, rubbing and pressing up his erection against rough denim. He scratched his scalp as he finally got a grab of his hair and moaned stronger into his mouth as Dean muffled it with his tongue and kissed him as if he'd like to steal his tongue lips and mouth away. Castiel's brain felt light headed and his cock pulsed achingly against the growing bulge in Dean's pants. He worked fast, his strong long fingers undoing the man's pants with just one hand and as soon as it was done, he urged his hand in.

Dean's sounds on his mouth made his tongue vibrate and got even more moans from him, as his fingers clasped around a thick shaft and he pumped it to full erection with hurry, he could barely wait to be fucked by it. 

Their pants and huffing breaths were loud and heavy as Dean finally came out for air. They came out rough and hot, and it was impossible that someone could not hear that, but Dean didn't quite give a fuck. He bit down the other's chin, already having made sure his lips were red and swollen by the time he released them, and his teeth left large bruising stamps with each squeeze those damn talented fingers worked around his dick. This time around he didn't stop on his collar bone. He continued right to the middle of the other's panting chest, and then to find his nipples. It was different than handling breasts, but nipples were nipples and as he worked his lips and teeth, Castiel sure as hell arched into it and groaned and squeezed him just right in a spasm he was hoping to get out of him.

 _"Dean..._ "

Hearing his name for the first time in that rough low voice, choked out, made him sure he was ready for more and also that Dean couldn't wait to fuck his name out of him and make him repeat it as much as he could. Finally letting go of the tortured nubs, he shoved his hand back and down without ceremony, grasping to the soft round ass cheeks he'd seen covered and kneading them as he worked his way up leaving more marks on the way till his ear.

"Lube." he barked, against it, and the man left a sound as he promptly let go of his hair to shuffle in his suit pockets. Dean snorted as he took the offered lube and their gazes met again a smirk on his lip.

"You dirty bastard."

Castiel rolled eyes and huffed before pulling him in roughly and biting his lip down and sucking it in and kissing him harshly for almost a minute before letting go, panting. 

"Efficient" he retorted, growl-y and breathy and Dean decided he was right, before putting both hands on his hips and shoving him around, his face up against the mirror. Hating the cover, he roughly pulled the suit and shirt off his shoulders and down and tossed them to the side before actually letting his eyes appreciate the man's body now only in his pants. 

He'd looked at gay porn before, but fuck it was different having such a perfectly full ass turned to him, and just waiting to get fucked. To know the man was hard and leaking at the thought of having his dick inside him was more arousing than he ever imagined it'd be. He remembered the man's cocky expression from early and he wanted to make sure he fucked it away from his lips. 

It wasn't like he'd never done anal before. 

The guy's neck and shoulders and ears were a playground for his teeth and lips, keeping them both distracted as he worked him open. The lube barely had time to feel cold. It was so fucking hot inside him it made Dean almost growl against his skin, more than eager to feel that around his dick, but always set in doing his work right. It'd be no good for him if when he was finally shoved inside, the man stopped moaning like he was right now with his fingers.

Dean did everything he knew, curling, scissoring, adding fingers slowly and trying to control himself as his hips bucked into thin air from pure arousal of how tight and good it felt. He pressed his forehead against the other's neck and groans fell from his lips as them both swayed and thrust their bodies, Dean fucking into his ass with his fingers as slow as he possibly could, till the man was gritting his teeth not to denounce them to the whole store.

Dean made him beg.

The first time he said, he pretend not to get it, he asked if he wanted him to stop and the man almost cursed,  _No,_ he begged again, and Dean smirked against his skin as he rounded his fingers inside him and asked for him to repeat it, and still he didn't cede.

His smirk grew on his face, and his fingers only stopped when the man finally quit trying to say it in a metaphorical way and just outright begged for him - not to get on with it, or do it, or enter him - but to  _fuck_ him, finally making him satisfied. 

They both moaned together as Dean pushed inside. It was even tighter than he predicted and before the other was able to relax he just clasped down on him so strongly the own strength of it was the only thing that kept Dean from cumming on spot.

His vision blinked black before the other loosened enough for him to push till the end, breathing like an animal. He muffled his sounds between his shoulder blades, making the skin to quiver and Castiel to push back against him, moaning to the mirror, and making it foggy with his ragged breath. 

" _Move._ " he half ordered, half begged. And Dean did.

It didn't take long to escalate from slow and deep - Dean entranced as he watched his dick disappear into a guy's ass for the first time - to harsh and outright punitive. Dean had to free his hips from one of his hands so it could come around to cover the man's mouth, muffling his sounds, as Dean thrust into him viciously, trying not to groan and grunt too loudly, but unable to keep their thighs and skin to slap, almost drawing a new moan, a jolt of pleasure all together each time his groin met that rounded ass. 

He had worked his tie loose before, but it still hang from his neck, so Dean cradled it, barely paying attention, eyes down to his hips meeting the firm ass again and again, before he pulled the man's mouth open and pushed the balled tie inside it. The man moaned against it but didn't refuse, he bit it down and Dean groaned as with his both hands free again, he could push his ass cheeks apart and really watch him take it. 

He could see everything.

The sweat down the other's nape and back, the strong line of his spine, the arched ass, begging for more, his thighs tensed with the effort to push back, and the side of his face scrunched in pleasure, his mouth stuffed with his tie as he squeezed his eyes shut and moaned on it, no longer trying to make them lower. It was head-turning hot, and much more than Dean had ever expected.

He knew people were passing around, outside, and as much as that would be a turn on any other day, he didn't really care now, because the simple raw images and sensations of that dirty, harsh, quick, fuck were enough to turn him on to the hilt. Digit marks had already been bruised all over his hips and he only squeezed it harder as he watched his body slap up against the other and his cock disappear inside the reddened entrance.

His whole body launched over, his face smashing between his shoulder blades again, eyes squeezing shut, rather listening to their bodies encounter and feeling it as he pushed, and stuffed, and fucked, being squeezed and milked and eagerly accepted, than seeing it for now. As his hand moved before he processed, he thought his knees might give out on pure pleasure that knocked him. Castiel's cock was harder and more swelled than he'd ever felt his own to be. And all that as he took Dean that was fucking him as hard as he could. His shaft was as hot as the canal Dean was fucking open and he never imagined he could literally feel how  worked up someone was from being fucked by him.

Groaning loudly, he reached up for the other's face and pulled the tie from his mouth, dropping it, and was immediately rewarded and swarmed with rough and loud grunts and groans. The other tried to mumble he was close, but Dean didn't need to hear it, he knew. Moving his hips as nice and hard as he could, he really wrapped his fingers around the other's pulsing twitching dick and then he started to stroke dirty and fast.

It didn't take him a minute.

The orgasm rushed over the other and he could feel it everywhere, on his thighs quivering, on his dick engorging impossibly in his hand - and he never thought it could be so hot to feel the cum rushing before it actually spurted from someone else's dick -, and on the way he thought his dick was going to be ripped off into that clenching gaping hole to which the other seemed to be resumed. His move of un-gagging him proved right as his name was chanted out between profanities and indescribable sounds, Dean making sure they wouldn't end too soon as he fucked into him like he wanted to force those out.  He didn't last long after that.

He came inside him between low curses and gritted teeth and tensed jaw, and ended up giving up on watching as he just bit down his shoulder not to shout and jolted into him with his last shots.

His grabbed the other as he started to slip and only pressed him up the mirror to keep them both on their feet as he panted into his neck. He didn't rush his mind to come down. It'd been long since he'd had an orgasm that left him with dormant toes and he wanted to enjoy it. The other didn't seem in a hurry to leave either, so they stayed like that, for minutes, just breathing in, even if the air reeked of sex, and eventually lazily rubbing up to take the edge of oversensitivity off.

Dean panted into the other's skin and just after a while was able to pull his lips away from it. He blinked his vision focused and slowly unclenched his fingers from the other's hips. He breathed out heavily as he pulled out and then his brain finally knocked into working again. He was still a little unbalanced as he stepped back reaching for the waistband of his pants to pull them up. As he did, he watched the other still scored against the mirror, and his eyes couldn't help but searching the opened up entrance and he smirked.

"Come on." he encouraged as the other showed signs of snapping back, and helped him pull his pants up "You don't want someone to find you here like this. Here." he tossed him his suit and shirt after grabbing it from the floor along with his own and shrugged it on, buttoning it up fast.

By the time he was ready to go, the other was resting back against the mirror, and although his pants were zippered up, his suit and shirt were still balled in his hands. He watched Dean with those same eyes from before. Dean cleaned his throat and raised his eyebrow. Adios. He hated this part, even though it was weird to think about it with a guy.

"I should probably go. Bachelor party." he reminded, gesturing towards the exit. The other nodded silently. Dean hesitated, then fished his pockets for a pen and piece of scrambled paper and wrote down on it, before pressing it between the clothes and the palm of the other as he met his eyes. "In case you wanna pass by."

Castiel smiled. And Dean cursed before he pushed forward.

He made his way out of the curtains ten minutes later. His lips were still burning for the last bites and sucks they'd gotten, and as he tried to organize his mind from the orgasm haze into planning mode, he found for the first time it was hard to think about strippers when his mind was filled with a very different type of ass. And he found himself hoping he'd see that ass and those piercing eyes tonight.

He knew himself enough to know that if he didn't, he was paying that store a visit tomorrow. And maybe the next day. And the other. For as long as he stayed.


End file.
